


Wasted Jealousy

by lisachan



Series: Leoverse [8]
Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-09
Updated: 2018-03-09
Packaged: 2019-03-29 05:32:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13920423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lisachan/pseuds/lisachan
Summary: Cody loves chocolate to the point that sometimes Leo gets jealous of it.





	Wasted Jealousy

**Author's Note:**

> **WARNING:** This story is a spin-off for Broken Heart Syndrome. This means that it depicts things happening way late in the 'verse, and that may be on varying degrees of spoiler.  
>  Written for this week's COW-T #8 Mission #5 on prompt "gluttony".

Cody loves chocolate.

It's not enough to say he likes it, because simply _liking it_ would imply some sort of self control involved in the relationship between him and chocolate. When you simply _like_ something you don't feel like you want to have it all the time. You enjoy having it, you sometimes maybe even crave it, but it's an episode, mostly, a few episodes, even, never a constant desire that no one and nothing can quench. 

Watching Cody eat chocolate is a pleasure Leo can't do without. There's a passion to it, an abandon in the way Cody closes his eyes and his eyelids flutter as the sweet taste seduces him. It's like watching him receive a kiss – now he parts his lips, now the small praline disappears past them, now his tongue moves all around it to help the chocolate melt, now he licks his lips, he swallows and he's promptly ready for more.

It's _exactly_ like watching him receive a kiss from someone else – as aesthetically pleasing as it can be to watch Cody involved in acts of a sexual nature, whoever his partner of choice might be, Leo can't help but feeling jealous.

“You like it a lot, don't you?” he asks, simulating and absent-mindedness that doesn't match his true state of mind at all.

Cody stops suckling at the candy and swallows making a childish noise, turning to look at him with eyes veiled with embarrassment, a darker shade of pink tinging his cheeks. They've been together five months and he still blushes when Leo looks at him in a certain way. He's too precious for words. Leo doesn't remember ever being with a person like him before – and he's been with quite a lot of people in his 21 years.

“I’m… I’m sorry,” Cody says, lowering his eyes.

Leo knows exactly what he’s apologizing for. Cody’s got a talent for recognizing tension in people. He’s been trained for it – he can’t help but think with a sting of pain and guilt. He must’ve felt that he was bothered, someway, somehow, for whatever reason, and there came the apology.

Leo stands up, walking towards him. Cody’s sitting on the couch and he doesn’t move, not even when Leo stops and stands right in front of him. “Do you like it more than you like me?” he asks – and he knows he shouldn’t be asking. He knows this is one of the many questions he’d better not ask, because everything that embarrasses Cody puts him to shame, and everything that puts him to shame makes him retreat behind the fragile shell he built for himself after William broke his heart.

But sometimes – it doesn’t happen all the times, but sometimes yes, sometimes it does – Leo manages to ask the wrong question in just the right way, and that’s when Cody reacts in ways that always surprise him, doing or saying things that send butterflies fly in a craze in his belly.

This time, upon hearing the question, Cody locks eyes with him and swallows. He could look down and shy away, but he chooses not to. He stares at him and parts his lips, and after a second of hesitation he says: “There’s something about you I like more than chocolate.”

Leo feels his insides twist and turn and he has to make an effort, to put everything he possibly can in not jumping on him right then and there.

He keeps himself still. Keeps himself steady. He raises and arm and strokes Cody’s jawline with his thumb – then his lips. “What does it taste like?” he asks, pressing a little to push the tip of his finger past the soft line of Cody’s lips, “This thing you like more than chocolate?”

Cody closes his eyes and opens his mouth, welcoming his finger in its warm, dark wetness. He sucks at the tip for a second and Leo feels like dying. His legs become weaker and he’s not sure he’s strong enough to stand any longer.

He’s only met one person who could annihilate his self control like Cody does. A person the name of which he can’t even think without feeling his heart crack right in the middle, for now. So he avoids the thought. He concentrates on Cody. On the idea that no matter how weak Leo will become against him, Cody will never use that, consciously or not, to hurt him. 

“It’s you,” Cody answers obediently. Then he opens his eyes and looks at him like he sometimes does, in that way that makes Leo think he must be looking at him to dare his to do his worst. “I’m hungry for you now.”

And suddenly it doesn’t matter any longer how much Cody likes chocolate, how much he craves it and how lost in pleasure he gets when he finally eats it. Chocolate can’t touch him, can’t taste him, can’t smell him. Chocolate can’t hold him and it certainly cannot give him pleasure.

In all this, modestly speaking, Leo’s a champion.

There’s no reason to be jealous, after all.


End file.
